#because I can’t believe my parents still try to put me down for things that happened 7 years ago

[corirella]

Old study notes from 2016 (wow… almost 7 years ago)

The lowest point of my life when I was studying for the GCE A Level examinations in Singapore. I joke that’s it my depression era (coming from an Asian family who don’t prioritize mental health) but looking back it was seriously frightening.

Dug these old photos because back then I didn’t score the best but I made it to university. Didn’t graduate at the top of my cohort but I found a great job. People always say that you’ll find a way in life and I never quite believed them but after 7 years, I do now.

YOU WILL FIND YOUR WAY IN LIFE EVENTUALLY.

Because I did! Sorta. No one can tell you how to live your life except yourself, not even your parents or your teachers. Live your best life and listen to your heart because eventually, everything will work out ♥️

[nope-body]

.

[nitewingbabi]

↳ a pretty mouth             ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 warnings ⇢ drinking, sexting, knife play, fingering, oral (m receiving), swearing, orgasm denial, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading,  ✉ taking requests first part  ▻  please respond…i showed you my cock

It had been days since any kind of attack or sign of ghostface. You almost believed he had disappeared, but it was still in the back of your mind. You never responded to his messages that he sent, and he never came to see you. Not that you really wanted him too. 

He was psycho. But there was something about his voice and not knowing who was behind that mask that just made your stomach flip the right way round. 

You had multiple missed phone calls from a private or blocked number. You had the upper hand for once.

➤ you can’t ignore me ➤ i’m not going to stop  ➤ you can try to shut me out, but i’ll find a way to get back in ➤ and when I do, i’m going to bury myself in that sweet pussy

His texts turned you on the more he sent them. All laced with dirty things you tried not to enjoy. 

Clearly you needed to give him something to make him chase you harder. Your parents would start to get suspicious of the large water bills coming through, and the last thing you wanted to give up was your shower head time every night. You felt possessed almost, turning yourself on as you dreamt of him climbing through your window of the night, holding a knife to your throat as he fucked you in ways you haven’t experienced before. 

Your legs began to rub to get friction, you needed to stop putting these thoughts in your head. He was a serial killer. The last thing you needed was to be fucking the town’s killer who had threatened your life countless times as well. 

When you finished school you went over to your friend’s house to get ready for a party that was happening over the weekend. All day you had multiple messages from him. Nothing new, that was until. 

🟪 Gfce23 sent you a snap 

The purple box told you everything you needed to know. It was video, with audio. You excused yourself from her room, heading into the bathroom. Opening the video it was once again his cock in his gloved hand, his body more in view this time for you to get a better look. Eyeing over his pale skin. 

“Ughnf—this is all for you.” Your clit throbbed at the sudden moaning that came from your phone. Walls tightening at his words. ‘This is all for you’. You licked your lips at the sight of the red tipped cock on your screen that thrusted into his leather glove. 

“F-f-fuck y/n.” Hearing him say your name mixed with a whimper as he pumped himself, stomach flexing every time he gasped and his movements picked up just a little more. You found yourself with your fingers dancing between your legs again, toying with yourself. The video ended there. No big finish for you. Your flustered state calmed down when you returned to reality and remembered where you were. 

“Jesus, fuck!” You hissed, running fingers through your hair as you tried to finish getting ready. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help lusting after him. Evening came finally and it was time to get drunk and enjoy your weekend. No school, no studying, no homework. Just alcohol and boys. Walking into the house it was already crazy, everyone dancing and rubbing themselves up against each other. 

A few mindless games of spin the bottle, truth or dare, and many more kids games. You found the keg, pouring yourself a drink before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was the same guy whose been chasing after you since the first grade. 

“Hey y/n, long time no see. Feel like we never talk anymore babe.” You cringed at the pet name he gave you. You liked princess better anyway. 

“That’s because we aren’t even friends, I don’t talk to people who aren’t my friends.” You snipped back, walking away from the over-confident jock that didn’t want to take no for an answer it seemed. You swung your head back and downed the drink in the red solo cup. 

“Look, y/n. Just give me one chance and if you aren’t into it then I’ll leave you alone.” He chased you. But not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way that you for some reason missed. You felt bad that you never did give him the time of day, and the alcohol was already going to your head. So what was one dance? You allowed him to grab your hand and take you to where everyone else was dancing, rolling your hips against him and allowing yourself to just relax. 

It was hard too when you were so sexually frustrated, after what felt like forever of dancing you found your friend. Letting her know you were leaving and going home, she was too busy dancing with a group of guys to care. You thought about walking home but chose to Uber instead. 

It was just up the road but in your tipsy state, in a short skirt and with a killer on the loose? What could go wrong? 

Your parents were once again gone for the night, using the time away to connect and get their marriage back on track. You didn’t turn on the lights, leaving the house dark and making your way upstairs to your room. Opening the door you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing it dark and just as you left it was disappointing. You walked over to your vanity, turning on the lamp and eyes looking into the reflective surface. 

Your eyes shot open and you sobered up at the sight of a white mask and dark cloak leaning against your clothing dresser. Your heart began to race and you stood up, turning around to face the masked figure who had been on your mind day and night. 

“Surprise princess.” His familiar voice had you buckling at the knees. You wanted to drop to them and suck the one thing he had been teasing you with the last few times you spoke. 

“Get on the bed. Now.” A sharp piercing feeling was against your leg, looking down you saw the knife he held in his hand against the flesh of your exposed thigh. Hard enough to indent your skin but not to actually pierce you. 

You nodded as you walked backwards, sitting on the soft surface and using your elbows to keep you elevated. Eyes looking into the dark black mesh that hid your mystery killer’s eyes. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see you dancing tonight princess. Open your legs.” You did as you were told and audibly gulped. You never saw ghost face at the party, you wondered where he could have been for him to be able to watch you in such a crowded house. Your thigh was met with a cold, metal against it. His knife slowly dragging up from your knee all the way to the crease where your pubic region met your leg. 

He looked down between your legs, eyeing off the cute short skirt and red panties you had on. The same ones he loved seeing you in when you first tried them on. He let out a low groan before swiftly flicking his wrist so his knife teared at the delicate lace. 

$60, down the drain. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him against you, touching, rubbing, sucking. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself, the mattress dipping on each side of you as he positioned himself between your legs and removed the lacy garment blocking his view. He tilted his head to the side, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he saw your creamy hole gaping. How he wanted to fill it. His leather covered fingers reached out and began to rub at your wet folds, moving the creamy arousal over your clit and labia. Teasing your core with soft, slow touched. You gasped as he dipped a finger into your cunt, a thick ring of cream engulfing his finger as he entered you. 

He began pumping, curling his finger each time to graze against your sensitive walls. You began letting out soft mewls at the sensations in the pit of your stomach. A sensation you had only been able to get from a shower head and your own touch. Without warning, he added another two fingers, thrusting harder and quicker now and watching your hips bucking to meet his every movement. 

“Look at you, this pink pussy is aching to be touched. I’ve barely started and you’re almost unravelling under my fingers. How many can you take before I have you begging for more?” He hissed as he added his thumb to your clit, watching you let out a squealed whimper and jerk your body under his touch. He chuckled darkly at your reactions, watching your fingers grab at the blanket comforter underneath you.

Your orgasm was building quickly and you wanted to let go. But ghostface, had other plans for you. Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m gonna cum’ he removed himself completely. Hearing you almost cry from pain at the loss of pleasure. 

“Oh no, you don’t get to cum yet princess.” You let out a whine at his words, squirming under his arms. He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock against your core. It was hard and only made you beg for more. 

“I want to hear you say you would’ve been honoured to have been killed by me. That it makes you wet and turned on that I could kill you right here, right now. And no one could stop me.” Excitement mixed with panic filled your stomach as you thought about how he would react if you didn’t say it. 

“It turns me on, that I’m so helpless and weak, that you could kill me right now and no one would help me…or stop you.” You had to admit to yourself sheepishly, that it was erotic. 

“Such a pretty princess, with a pretty pussy. And a pretty mouth. I think we should see how good it feels.” He pulled you to the floor with a loud thud, your wrists hurting from being held in place for so long. He undid the black cloak, the velcro ripping and revealing black jeans. His member pushing against the rough material just dying to get out. 

You decided to unbutton his jeans and pull his dick out. It was just as you remembered, pink, swollen and veiny. His tip ached to be touched, a drip of precum oozing out his slit and and running towards the edge of his head. Your eyes met his mask, his hand came to your head and pushed his member past your lip and into the warm embrace of your mouth. 

He moaned loudly for the first time, and it made you ache all over again. He thrusted his hips, fucking your throat feverishly and throwing his head back in pleasure. Muttering all kinds of vulgar words under his breath at the sensation he had been chasing since the first time he saw you. You gagged and coughed at the sharpness and uncomfortable feeling of him hitting the back of your throat. 

Spittle running down the corners of your lips and chin as he relentlessly unleashed his strength onto you. 

“Fucking take it princess, don’t forget how many people had to die for me to feel your pretty lips around my cock. Take it all. Fucking cock-slut.” His degrading words only sparked you to work his member harder, bobbing your heads in rhythm with him now and swirling your tongue around your mouth in no rhythm at all. He didn’t chase his orgasm, your pussy was his endgame. 

“On the bed and get on your hands and knees.” He growled, annoyed at himself for not reaching his own high. 

“What should I call you?” You asked innocently, big eyes batting at him as you stood to your feet and moved back onto the soft, plush mattress. 

“Call me your master.” You moved onto your hands and knees, feels his gloved hands curl around your ankles and pull your legs further apart, in response you also arched your back even more. 

“This is gonna be fun.” 

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 26] Change of Plans

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“What do you mean your parents are here?” Worry consumes Satoru as soon as he hears about the announcement. His eyes go directly to Ren, who looks around confused. Why is Sayo’s parents showing up a big deal? Ren sees his parents everyday and it’s not a big deal. 

“I don’t know why they’re here. One of the maids just came into my room with the announcement and I– I don’t know.” She’s running her hands through her hair, taking deep breaths to keep her cool but it’s hard. She’s freaking out and Satoru can’t blame her.

“It’s okay, Sayo. Deep breaths.” Satoru tries to get her to calm down while he freaks out himself. It’s Ren’s birthday, he doesn’t want the night to be ruined because Sayo’s parents decided it’d be a great day to stop by. “Ren, come here.”

“I thought you were going to open mommy’s gift?” Ren asks, but he won’t question it further. Satoru had a change of heart, that’s a good enough answer for Ren. He walks back to his father, and Satoru’s hand goes to the top of his head. 

“What are we going to do– I mean you have your son here, this birthday party clearly isn’t for you. What are we going to say?” Sayo rambles, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before she has to go downstairs to greet them. “What do we even say?”

“I don’t know. I…” Satoru is unsure of what to say next. What should he do? He looks down at Ren and takes a moment to really think about his options. He can’t hide Ren forever, and he isn’t going to.

Satoru isn’t proud of a lot of things in his life because quite frankly he hasn’t made the best decisions, and Ren is everything to him. His pride and joy. He doesn’t want to keep hiding him, Satoru is done with all of this.

“I think it’s time to come clean.” Satoru says, words that are dreaded by her. But she somewhat understands. Satoru just has a beautiful family that is waiting for him– Or whatever you have going on, either way, it’s time to put an end to this. She bites down her lip before nodding in agreement.

“You’re right.” She agrees as a sigh escapes her lips. She wanted this to go on a little longer… No, she wanted this to keep going forever since she can’t deal with the truth. But Satoru isn’t her little puppet, and he has his own feelings to cherish and protect.

Her eyes are filling up with tears, and she tries to turn quickly to leave. She doesn’t want Satoru to back down or to think she wants him to; she’s simply overcome with emotion because this is it, after tonight, she won’t have a family. Satoru speaks before she can walk away, making sure to cover Ren’s ears beforehand, “Sayo, you might not be my wife but you’re still going to be my family.”

“I appreciate it, Satoru.” She manages to say, before walking away. Satoru takes his hands off Ren’s ears and smiles down at him.

“Change of plans, I’ll open your mommy’s gift later. Let’s go downstairs.” Satoru tells Ren, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room. He’s not letting the boy out of his sight for even a moment, he’ll proudly show off his son tonight.

“Who are–” You’re right outside his door when he opens up, and he interrupts you to answer your question.

“Sayo’s parents.” He says, and your eyes widen. You don’t know much about the situation, but you can only assume this isn’t good news. Mrs. Gojo is chatting with them, keeping them occupied but from what you’ve heard, this isn’t good news.

“Do you want me to leave and take Ren for the time being?” You ask him, trying to grab your baby boy’s hand but Satoru shakes his hand.

“Time to put an end to all of this. I can’t hide him forever… He’s my whole world, how can I?” Satoru responds, and you feel your heart flutter. Your face begins to get warm, and you can’t believe you’re feeling fuzzy because Satoru is being a good father. 

“This won’t cause too many issues, right?” You question, and Satoru won’t tell you the truth but he won’t lie to you either. So he chooses to ignore the question, and picks up Ren from the ground. Satoru walks past you, and you begin to follow behind him. 

You don’t know what’ll happen next, and you’re sure it’s not going to be the best scene. You’re almost sure that you’ll be the one that’s going to be blamed for everything, but there’s no way you’re leaving Satoru alone with Ren in this mess. You really do wish you could leave with Ren right at this moment, but you understand that this is something Satoru has to do.

“Satoru–” A woman that looks just like Sayo, simply slightly older, begins to speak. She’s taken back by the boy that Satoru holds, her mouth agape as she stares in complete and utter confusion. Could be a cousin of some sort, though the boy looks too much like Satoru. “Did you and Sayo–”

“Who is this boy?” Sayo’s father steps in, and Satoru feels the nerves slowly consume him, but he’ll remain brave. The process of merging just began, and this will surely ruin everything but it doesn’t matter anymore. All Satoru cares for is the little boy that he holds in his arms– And you who stand behind him. 

“My son.” Satoru answers before putting Ren down on the ground. Before he can say anything more, you grab Ren and take him away because he shouldn’t witness any of what’s about to happen. Satoru holds his breath, waiting for a reaction from the pair.

“Sayo!” Her father couldn’t be any louder, as it dawns on him that his son-in-law has a son; a son that is very clearly not his daughter’s.

“She’s not at fault for this, so leave her out of it.” Satoru quickly says, but he knows his words won’t change anything. He’s seen how they interact, it’s the reason why Sayo doesn’t want the news to come out. She could do nothing, but her parents will find a way to blame her for everything.

“She’s known about this, she definitely is at fault.” Her mother responds, and Satoru takes a deep breath. He wants to leave so badly and enjoy the very special day with his son and you, but he can’t leave Sayo alone. Not in this mess at least. 

“Sayo! Get down here!” Her father yells once again, getting desperate for his daughter to come downstairs. But it’s not her who comes down, but you. Their eyes fall on you, the woman who took away Satoru’s son, which can only mean one thing to them.

“You’re the tramp.” Her mother says, and both you and Satoru are completely shocked by her words. You have yet to speak, yet she’s already managed to insult you. You somewhat expected this though so you can’t say you’re too surprised; you’re still a little hurt though. “What the hell did you do to him? Satoru would never–”

“Get out.” Satoru’s voice is harsh, making it clear that they’re unwelcome into his home. Sayo has yet to come down to face this, but Satoru isn’t going to allow it. Not tonight at least. They’re staring at him as if they haven’t heard him, which makes him yell, “Get out! You’re not welcome here!”

“We’re going to talk about this, we’re not leaving.” Sayo’s father says, but Satoru isn’t willing to listen to this now. This is supposed to be a special day for him and his son, yet he feels as if the night is ruined. He feels sorry for Sayo, since she won’t get to deal with this tonight, delaying the inevitable confrontation once again. Satoru just isn’t up to listen to them anymore, especially after the woman insulted you. 

“You’re leaving. I told you that you’re leaving, and if you don’t start moving within the next thirty seconds, I’m dragging you out.” Satoru is seeing red. He’s always had a particular dislike for Ssayo’s parents, but they’ve never made him this angry before. 

They see that he’s very serious about this, and they won’t argue with him now. They’ll leave for the moment, as a birthday present. But they’ll come back tomorrow, and they’re not going to leave until they get a proper explanation from him and their daughter.

“Happy birthday, Satoru, and happy anniversary to you and my daughter.” The woman makes sure to say before leaving the house, doing it to remind you that Satoru is a married man. 

“Where’s Ren?” Satoru asks the moment they step out of the house. He’s not going to allow anyone else to ruin tonight. He’s spending the rest of his birthday with you and his son.

“I left him with Sayo so she wouldn’t come down. I’ll go get him.” You answer, and Satoru nods in response. He runs to the kitchen while you go upstairs to grab your baby.

“Mommy! Look, Sayo and I started playing Mario Party!” Ren exclaims when he sees you step into the game room. You smile at him and at the woman that sits beside him. You found her nearly sobbing, you knew she couldn’t go downstairs with how she was crying. 

“Your daddy wants to see you, Ren.” You tell him, and he pouts. His game just started and you’re tearing it away– it’s fine, at least he’ll get to have cake later.

“But our game just started!” Sayo protests, and you chuckle. You agree,

“Alright, but ten minutes. You know Satoru is impatient.”

After Ren loses to Sayo too many times, he gives up on his game. Which is good for Satoru who was growing a little too impatient while he watched them play. He knows it’s only a matter of time before his mother comes in, asking him to fix this mess. He’s not in the mood for any of this tonight though, and while he wanted to celebrate the day with so many other people, he’s changed his mind. 

He feels bad for leaving everyone else behind when they’ve come to celebrate Ren’s birthday, but he can’t stand being in the place for much longer. He takes you, Ren, and the cake, practically forcing you into a car. You can’t protest much, and you won’t because it’s also his birthday and you’ll grant him just about anything that’ll make him happy.

“Can we have some of the cake now?” Ren asks as he sits right next to it. He was dragged out last minute from his own party, he might as well get a piece of his cake. 

“When we get to where we’re going.” You answer, although you’re not sure how long the ride is. Satoru dragged you out with such urgency, and you wonder if someone is expecting you. Are you late for something? You guess you’re not, Satoru just needs a breath from his home. 

You’re proven right when he pulls into the home that he took you not too long ago. You can only imagine the scene that Mrs. Gojo was going to cause, so you understand his decision.

You exit the car, and grab the cake before Ren can get his hands on it. Satoru picks up his baby boy and takes him inside the house, commenting, “Soon enough you’re going to be too heavy for me to carry.”

“Grammy says the same thing.” Ren points out, and while they chatter, you look around the place. It’s more ready than before, filled with new and luxurious furniture. Satoru’s moving in soon, that’s what you can gather. 

You don’t stare for too long since the cake is getting heavy for you to carry. You remember the way to the dining room, so you go there and set the cake down on the table. You hear how both of them laugh which brings a smile to your lips. Ren loves his father more than anything, and you’re happy that he can finally spend his birthday with Satoru. 

“Mommy!” Ren yells, and you follow the voice that calls out for your name. You find them in the kitchen, Ren on the kitchen counter while Satoru looks for something to eat in the fridge. When Ren sees you, he immediately asks, “Can we order a pizza?”

“If that’s what you both want.” You answer, and Satoru immediately closes the fridge.

“Good because we have nothing here.” Satoru comments, and you let out a chuckle. 

“Satoru, you’re more than welcome to get something without asking for my permission.” You tell him, and he shakes his head. He’ll rather ask for your permission beforehand. “You’re a grown man, Satoru.”

“I’m grown too!” Ren chimes in, and Satoru side eyes him. 

“What did you just say, pipsqueak?” Satoru teases him as he picks up Ren from the counter. Satoru pulls his chubby cheek and says, “You’re only grown when I can’t carry you anymore.”

“You said that it’d be soon.” Ren reminds his father, and Satoru purses his lips. Ren got him there.

“Yeah, soon. But not now. See, I can still carry you.” Satoru responds. And he’ll still be able to carry Ren for many years to come so Satoru isn’t too worried about it.

“Let me order the food.” You tell them while they begin to bicker about the fact that Ren thinks he’s old now.

After eating your dinner, and playing some games, Ren finally gets to cut his birthday cake. Ren sits on his father’s lap, while Satoru lights up some matches since he forgot to bring the birthday candles. It’s a simple mistake with an easy solution. 

Ren isn’t too upset about the five matches on his birthday cake since he’s too focused on the frosting on the cake. Ren is trying to sneak some of the icing while you two sing happy birthday. He finally sneaks it in when you’re clapping, though Satoru notices. Satoru is laughing, telling him, ���Blow out the matches.”

“It’s your birthday too.” Ren reminds him, the evidence of his crime all over his lips. Satoru clicks his tongue before blowing the matches for Ren since they’re burning a little too fast. Ren claps for Satoru, as his father takes off the matches from the cake.

“I guess I get the biggest piece since I blew out the fire.” Satoru says, which makes a frown appear on Ren’s face.

“He is right, plus you already got a taste of it.” You join in, and Ren crosses his arms.

“It’s my birthday!” He makes sure to remind the two of you, which makes you chuckle. 

“It’s also your dad’s birthday, you said it yourself.” You say, and Ren begins to get upset so you decide to drop it. You don’t want to tease him too much tonight. You reach over and kiss his cheek before saying, “Let me go get a plate and a knife so I can give my baby boy the biggest piece of cake.”

“I’ll go with you.” Satoru gets Ren off his lap, not wanting for you to spend too much time looking for plates. And maybe he wants to be able to talk to you one on one, especially since he didn’t get the chance to look at the present you gave him.

“You know that leaving Ren with the cake is a bad idea.” You tell Satoru as he follows behind you. He knows that it’s a horrible idea, but if Ren wants to eat the whole cake, he’s more than welcome to. The cake is for him and for nobody else, he can eat it all on his own if it’s what his little heart desires.

“I have a question.” Satoru changes the topic, and you hum. “I didn’t get to see what you got me and now I’m curious.”

“Why don’t you just wait until you get home?” You suggest and Satoru pouts. Maybe the fact that he blew out the five matches has some sort of meaning, he and Ren share one age.

“I’m probably not going back tonight. C’mon, just tell me!” Satoru insists, and you roll your eyes. You’re searching for the plates, and it’d be more helpful if he actually guided you to where the plates were. Your task would be easier if the house didn’t have nearly a hundred cabinets in the kitchen. 

“Help me find the plates and I’ll answer.” You respond, and Satoru sighs before walking over and opening the cabinet for the plates. He won’t take them out until you give him the answer. “Fine. Before my mom left your house, she stole something from you and I’m giving it back.”

“What did she steal?” Satoru’s curiosity just sparked. Your mother isn’t a thief, he knows that she isn’t, so what could she possibly take?

“You remember that music box your parents got for you when you were a baby?” You tell him, and his brows perk up before he nods. “My mom snuck into your room and stole it when she found out I was pregnant. Told me my son will inherit something from his father, and it was that. Ren doesn’t care for it anymore, so you might as well have it back.”

“Really? I was going crazy looking for it. I swore my mom threw it away.” Satoru answers, and you almost feel bad for taking it. But listening to the lullaby was the only way your baby Ren would fall asleep. “I don’t need it back, if Ren has had it this whole time then I’m happy I lost it.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what else to get you since you have pretty much everything.” You respond, and Satoru can’t blame you since it’s true. Satoru has everything a man can ask for… Well almost everything.

“Give me a kiss.” The words blurt out of his mouth, and your eyes grow wide. “Since you claim I have everything. That’s the one thing I don’t have.”

“Tell me why I should kiss you?” You put a hand on your hip, and he sticks out his bottom lip.

“It’s my birthday.” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes again. 

“If I wasn’t in the delivery room, I would’ve been convinced you somehow reproduced with yourself.” You mutter before walking over and kissing his cheek. You know he meant more, but he’s not getting more. Either way, it makes his cheeks turn pink because it’s been a while since he’s felt your lips on any part of his skin. 

The air suddenly becomes thick, and you have to take a deep breath. Before you can speak about it, you decide to change the topic, “Your house is nice by the way, when are you moving in?”

“It’s not mine, it’s yours. I bought it for you.” He answers as he finally grabs the plates that he was withholding. You freeze in your spot, trying to think about the words that he just said. Is he serious? Did you hear right?

“What do you mean mine?” You question, and he’s fighting back a smirk. He kisses the tip of your nose as an extra gift for himself. He begins to walk away and you yell his name, “Satoru! What do you mean?”

“This is your house!” He yells, before completely leaving you alone in the kitchen. You stand dumbfounded, unsure of what to say to him.

You look around the big kitchen, slowly taking it all in. This is your house.

[haikyu-mp4]

For cartwheels

word count; 1062 – gn!reader, inspired by my desperate dream of doing a cartwheel

Tsukishima Kei was so happy to get home after a long day at the museum where he worked, desperate to spend the evening inside in your company. Unfortunately, he married you, so he could never get the peace he wanted for free.

You were standing awkwardly on the lawn in front of your house when he exited the car. Your husband walked closer slowly as if approaching a dangerous animal. “Why are you out here, brat?” he asked affectionately, but then he saw the tear trickling down from your eye. “What’s wrong?”

With a sniffle, you lift your arm and wipe at the tear before pouting at him, shoulders shaking a little but he wasn’t sure if it was sobs or oncoming laughter because it seemed like a mixture of both. “I so desperately want to do a cartwheel,” you explained, letting another tear fall.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, wondering if he heard you right as he straight up stopped and just stared at you.

“I suddenly got this intense urge to do a cartwheel, but I can’t do a cartwheel!”

“Have you tried, are you hurt?” he asked, this time wondering if maybe you had tried already and that was why you were crying.

“I just told you, I can’t do cartwheels. I’m stuck walking around like some lame person.” you insisted, walking around in a circle as if for emphasis. He covered his mouth with his hand, acting as if he was thinking and even putting the other hand on his hip for the act, but really he was just trying not to laugh at you when you were feeling so emotional. He didn’t understand why this made you cry, and he probably never would. There are many times in this marriage where you tested his patience, but he never loved you any less.

After basking in this weird energy for a minute, he put his bag down and started rolling up his sleeves. “Just try it.”

You wrung your hands and swayed your body a bit like a little kid who is about to ask their parent for something. “Will you try with me? I’m scared that the neighbours will see me do it alone and think I’m weird.”

“God forbid they think that,” he mumbled sarcastically, making you lightly slap his chest. He blinked in disbelief, so close to just saying no, but there was something about the way you looked at him like he could save your entire day. “I can call Yamaguchi and ask if he wants to come over for a playdate?” he asked, bratty as ever despite his affection for you.

“I want you! This is what I married you for,” you said, always turning overly dramatic when Tsukki fought against you.

Once again, he deadpanned as he looked at you, silently asking if you were serious. “You married me to do cartwheels together in our garden?”

You grinned innocently and shrugged your shoulders. “Amongst other things.”

His eyes fell closed, pinching between them with his pointer finger and thumb. Tsukishima actually couldn’t believe he was about to agree, except yes he could. He was so smitten with you that there was no doubt in his mind he would eventually agree anyway. “Fine, but you have to make dinner after I break both my arms and legs.”

Completely ignoring his dramatics, you clap your hands excitedly. “You’re the athlete, you have to go first.” His eyes were cursing you, but he still got ready, breathing in and out as his eyes measured the space he had. You giggled and stood at the side, cheering for him like a cheerleader. “Go, Tsukki!”

“It’s Kei to you,” he said, breaking his concentration again because nothing was worth his time more than bickering with you.

“Do the cheerleaders at your games call you that?” you argued with a scrunched nose, reminding him you could be just as stubborn.

“No, but I’m not married to them!” he said, finally reaching the level of exasperated.

You giggle, always happy to hear him say you’re married. “Let’s go, baby, while the sun is up.”

It’s such a bratty line that he considered refusing again, but he finally got ready so that the two of you could get it over with. If you hadn’t been cheering for him, you would have heard him mumble a quick “Lucky I love you” before he finally lifted his arms and tried to do a cartwheel across the grass.

It wasn’t that bad, honestly. He did just fine at first but then forgot to steady himself and one leg just followed the other and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the ground with his glasses askew. You cheered loudly as Tsukishima straightened up his glasses and huffed. “Was it exhilarating?” you asked, holding out a hand to help him up.

“I’m never doing it again,” he insisted while you pulled him up. He squeezed your hand and gestured with his free hand towards the open space. “Your turn.”

An excited giggle left your mouth as you moved to where he stood previously, but your face fell abruptly when he just watched you silently. “Are you not going to cheer?”

He pursed his lips and lifted a hand like the Statue of Liberty, followed by a weak “Go, go, let’s go!”

That was more than enough to satisfy you, as you put up your hands and skipped for a step or two before tumbling across the lawn. It didn’t last for long, and you weren’t particularly good at it. But your laugh when you landed was enough of a sign to Kei that his mission succeeded. You were happy.

He helped you up and pulled you to his chest. The neighbours were totally watching you. “Was is exhilarating?” he asked you back.

“My butt hurts,” you complained, but it was still mixed with laughter.

He chuckled. It sounded like music to your ears. The soft kind of chuckle that caressed your heart and reminded you he was the one. “Mine too, honey.”

As you started making your way inside, Kei had his arm over your shoulders and yours was stretched across his back while he told you about his day. All you could do was stare up at him in wonder. That’s the man you married. In sickness and in health, for cartwheels and other things.

masterlist

/I got to the part where the reader asks him to join and suddenly realised I had no idea what character I was writing for, so I started imagining every moody haikyuu character doing cartwheels.

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part I

“I still think we should hit up somewhere else, Jamie. There are tons of bars that would look the other way and let us grab a few drinks.” One of the three young men passing through New York during college break said as they made their way to the old building housing the Devil’s Den, apparently the most hyped club in the city, which had a strict policy of keeping anyone under 21 out.

“Stop being such a fag, Fred! We’re gonna get in, trust me, man of little faith.” Jamie, the group leader with light brown hair, same color as Mark, shot back. Fred, on the other hand, was blond, and more sensitive, which didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own when it came to arguing; on the contrary, the debate skills of the former debate team captain were legendary.

“Chill, Fred. The worst that can happen is the bouncer looks at the IDs that Jamie’s buddy hooked us up with and realizes we don’t have the right age and kicks us out. But I doubt that’ll happen; in a few months, we’ll all be 21.” Mark commented, always the peacemaker.

“Another reason to wait until we’re actually of age. I don’t want any trouble, guys.” Fred tried to argue again.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here to chicken out, man. If you wanna bail, I’m cool, but think about all the work I put into getting these IDs. And I didn’t even charge you guys!” Jamie grumbled.

“That’s just because your buddy did it for free, asshole. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Mark jumped in before things got heated between the two.

“Some dude I met at the hostel; he’s the one who told me about this place. Apparently, this is the spot for anyone looking for a good time.”

“You mean you trusted someone you barely know? Doesn’t that seem kinda sketchy to you?” Fred asked, outraged, totally shooting down Mark’s efforts.

“I’m sick of your attitude, man! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just head back to the hostel?”

“Hey, hey, chill out, you two! We’re here to have a good time! Fred, let’s check out the place, and if we don’t like it or they kick us out, we’ll head back to the hostel, and I promise I’ll be your wingman with those hot Italian chicks who showed up yesterday, alright? And Jamie, you dumbass, he’s not entirely wrong; it was pretty stupid to trust a stranger, but it’s done now, so let’s just try to have fun, please?” Mark chimed in again.

“Fine, but you know that your parents would kill us if anything goes south, Mark.” Warne Fred, whose parents had already passed away, and, in Jamie’s opinion, was the last one who should be worried instead of acting like a little pussy. Not that he’d say that, at least not now that his buddy finally decided to man up.

“Finally acting like a man, Fred, and not like a little bitch!”

“Hey, man, that’s enough!”

“Chill out, Mark; you’re starting to sound like your dad. Sorry, Fredster, I just want an unforgettable night with my best buds.” Jamie said, hugging Fred on one side to encourage him while Mark did the same on the other.

As they approached the ridiculously long entrance line, Jamie commented.

“Since we’re talking about those hot Italian girls, it’s funny that if we were in most other countries, we wouldn’t even need to convince Fred here; we’d all be of age to drink until we drop without a care in the world.”

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy about hauling his kid from the gutter.” Mark remarked.

“He’s not as strict as your dad, man, but yeah… maybe it’s best not to push it. Damn, look at this line! No way I’m waiting all this crap! Oh, wait, I just remembered something; follow me!” Jamie said, signaling for his friends to follow him to the front of the line, where a huge black guy, looking like a muscle mountain, was running the door, checking IDs and occasionally greeting a buddy with a half-smile in his otherwise stern face. He saw the guys approaching and crossed his arms, giving them a menacing smirking look.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?”

“Good evening, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and, said… said that he hopes you have a… a hell of a night.” Jamie said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” Mark replied, handing over the fake IDs, which the guy scrutinized for a few seconds.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed someone before handing the IDs back to the guys and cracking a smile. “Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

As they stepped into the spacious lobby, the guys were hit with the sounds of music and excited screams, along with flashing lights. And the most impressive thing of all was a guy with olive skin, well-groomed beard and black hair, and a distinctive aquiline nose that hinted at some mediterranean ir middle eastern heritage. But what really stood out about the guy was his stunning build, partially covered by a sharp suit and shiny black pants, with his muscular torso on display for anyone who wanted to see, staring at them with disconcerting eyes and a mischievous grin that made the three feel like they were really inside the Devil’s Den.

“Dude, they really know how to set a mood.” Jamie remarked, eyeing the imposing figure. “Alright, first drinks, then we hit the dance floor for the hot chicks!”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna hit the bathroom; my bladder’s about to explode!” Fred said.

“Then it’s a wonder you didn’t piss yourself from fear before we even got in.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jamie!” he shot back, irritated, as he blended into the crowd on the dance floor.

“You really can’t pass up a chance to be an idiot, can you?” Mark commented, following his other friend through the crowd. “Let me talk to him; you do something useful and grab the drinks. You know a few shots will loosen him up.”

“It’s not my fault he needs booze to stop being a little bitch.” Jamie yelled to be heard over the noise, turning heads with expressions of disbelief toward him, but he was too hyped about the night’s promises to notice, heading for the nearest bar, closely followed by the sinister figure from the entrance. It wasn’t until he reached the bar that he noticed the company.

“Hello, James.” The man said over the cacophony, though his voice didn’t need to rise for Jamie to hear him.

“How do you know my name?” Jamie shouted back.

“Jerome gave me a heads-up about your arrival; I’m Mr. Shay the manager of this place. And I know you shouldn’t be here tonight, kid.”

“Damn… then why didn’t you stop us at the door?”

“Because I understand the need for a young man to rebel. Especially when his dad is such a major buzzkill.” The man said with bright eyes.

“I… he just wants what’s best for me… a decent job for a real man and… and sometimes it’s a drag.” Jamie replied in a whisper, not realizing the man knew way more about him than he should.

“Oh, I get it, kid, and just when you finally have a chance to chill, your friends leave you hanging.”

“Pussies!” The kid grumbled, not seeing the man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You seem to have a problem with gay people. What’s that about?”

“I don’t have a problem with gays; I have issues with little faggots, those sissy boys who take it up the ass like they’re chicks. My dad raised me to be a real man.”

“But it’s tough living under the weight of other people’s expectations, under the rigid standards taught by someone, isn’t it? Sometimes all you wanna do is chill out, let loose, and be happy, right? And have your friends be able to enjoy that with you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s settled! Poncho, a shot of tequila for my buddy here.” The man said as the spell seemed to break while he glided through the crowd with ease, almost floating, and for an instant if one looked closely one would catch a glimpse of his true form.

Still a bit dazed, Jamie turned to the bar and bumped into a Latino guy in his late thirties, with a chiseled, muscular chest completely exposed except for a bow tie around his neck, sipping a drink while the shot of tequila the other guy ordered was held in his hand.

“On the house.” The guy said with a smile. Without thinking twice, Jamie downed the shot.

“Nice one, hermano.” The man commented, grinning.

“Gracias, tio.” Jamie replied, smiling as he left the bar with a dreamy look.

There was definitely something extra in that tequila, Jamie’s rational side thought, a side that seemed to shrink more every minute. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, seeing colors and smelling scents he’d never experienced before, while that rational side tried in vain to shout inside his head, drowned out by an overwhelming numbness.

“Mierda, que guapo…” he murmured in Spanish, watching a muscular guy dancing shirtless. Without even stopping to think how out of character that was for him.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, with an unspeakable desire taking hold of him, making him vibrate and tremble inside he made his way toward the guy, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, Javier, the latino 21 years old man, approached the older man.

“Hey, papi, want some company?” He asked with a vacant look and dreamy voice that the other guy didn’t seem to notice, and in a few seconds, they were both dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“So, kid, where you from?”

“Right here, raised in El Barrio.” Javier answered.

“But where did your family come from?”

“My grandparents came with my dad and my uncles from Colombia in the early 90s. Maybe you know my uncle. He works as a bartender here; they call him Poncho, even though he’s not Mexican, but he says he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, so that’s why a kid like you is in here.” The man commented.

“I’ll show you who’s the kid.” Javier replied, kissing the man, who returned the kiss with passion.

Neither of them seemed to notice that the kid’s shirt seemed to evaporate in the air or the inches he gained in height or the facial hair sprouting on his face. After a long moment of pleasure, the two pulled away.

“So, papi, am I man enough for you?” Javi asked with a grin, while the other guy stared at him, breathless.

“Now I gotta bounce; my shift’s about to start!” Javi said, walking with a smile toward the bar. His muscles growing and expanding into an athletic, well-proportioned physique, with just the bow tie of his uniform to cover up.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name, boy!”

“If you want to find me, just head to the bar. And don’t call me boy; do I look like a kid to you?” He replied, flexing his muscles. Only a man could call him that, and that certainly wasn’t this one.

When he got to the bar, his uncle greeted him with a smile but also with a warning.

“If your dad finds out about this…”

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, tio. Plus, next year I’ll be graduating, and the boss is gonna put me to work in accounting, although I think I’ll still take a few shifts with you just for fun.”

“Javi, you really don’t get it, do you? If not your dad, then because of that musclehead you’re seeing.”

“It’s his fault for not showing up yet. And right when the main attraction’s about to start.” He said, looking at the club’s stage lighting up. “Though to him no attraction compares to my ass.” He concluded with a grin.

[starrycassi]

Zaunite Sign Language

We see in the show that touching foreheads with one another seems to be a very intimate thing to do for Zaunites. It is not necessarily romantic, but signals to a deep, strong bond between those who do it. Well, since Zaun was clearly a mining town, I think this habit comes from those times. We also see Felicia putting her fingers to her forehead as a way to greet her children, which could just be coincidence but I am insane and refuse to believe that coincidences exist in this show.

I think that, as deeply clothed as miners have to always be, letting someone else touch your forehead and general face eventually became a sign of intimacy between them, since it was one of the completely exposed areas of the body. Now, I know we see young Vander and Silco with not-so covering clothes (edit: yeah they put on those big ass coats. for some reason I forgot while writing this lol), but I’m being a bit more realistic here. I have family that lives somewhat close to Mina del Limón, which is a mining site here in Nicaragua, and people usually try to cover themselves up to avoid getting dirt directly on the skin, since a lot of the times this not only gets them dirty but ends up in mean rashes or other sorts of skin infections, depending on what layer of soil they’re working on at the moment.

All of this to say: I think Zaunites have a lot of signs that involve touching your forehead and involve only one (the other one usually busy with a tool or doing something else), since the noise in the mines would make spoken communication difficult and you can not just stop and walk over to someone in the middle of an excavation and signaling on other parts of your clothes would be harder to see if your hands are covered with soot, since their main light source would come from the helmets, ergo: their forehead/face would be the best illuminated part of their bodies. I headcanon things like touching up their index and pointer finger to their foreheads to then flick them up would mean things like “I’ve got you”, dragging their finger across their entire forehead “This is over/We can leave”, dragging their fingers from top pf forehead to tip of nose would be “I’m down/Can’t keep going/Help me/I need assistance” and so on. In a lot of circumstances where normal communication is stunted, languages tend to develop in other ways (like the Silbo Gomero, a whistled language in Canary Islands developed due to the distances)

I also think that, eventually, this evolved in Zaunite Sign Language (in a similar way to how Nicaraguan Sign Language evolved), which is what I personally Isha as being able to speak. I think almost everyone would know the very basic signs, since their parents teach them before they start going to work (and we see a lot of children working, so, very early) and these children would eventually teach their peers, even the ones that don’t work on the mines, so it’s a fairly widespread way to communicate. Add to this the time after the revolution, where a lot of miners would surely need to go into hiding for a time if they survived, or even before that, when they were planning and could not risk people hearing them — those would be circumstances that would surely foster and improve these signs!

I don’t know, I just really like linguistics and am a huge sucker for the development of cultural communication methods. Does this make any sense. Does any care. Should I expand on this. I mean I probably will because this blog has become a warped version of my journal but I still have to ask. To be polite.

[dreamcsc]

left or right? fuck that, go up! ❧ seokmin

this is my last post of 2024 so i just wanna say, thank you guys for all the love and support you’ve show this blog over this month. i’m so grateful that i am privileged to be able to share my passion and something that is a part of me. as much as i say i love writing, i always find myself questioning my love for it because i truly believe that i suck. but at the end of the day, i always come back to my first love. i just want to encourage every one that, it’s okay to question your love for your passion. it’s a part of growth in your craft. but always, always, put your mental and physical health first. in order to be good at your craft, you must live well enough to be able to do it.

once again, not beta read. merry belated christmas / holiday to those with a heavy heart and feels stuck in life. take that breath, baby. slow down, you will be fine.

you never really put a label on anything, more of a realistic and raw kind of person, and leaving things as they were. this means that calling lee seokmin way past midnight sounded a stretch in your friendship—but seokmin always seem to be different than you expected.

because the moment he heard his phone ring exactly at one in the morning and the caller ID showed a picture he secretly took of you with one of the prettiest smile, he came running to you.

“seokmin, are you here yet?” you find yourself calling out through the phone, tears threatening to fall.

you had been stuck in your apartment, cooped up at your tiny table in your bedroom. your appearance is not presentable, you were aware of that. writer’s block had always been this bad for, had your head aching, and your expectations diminished. it took exactly an hour to write the starting sentence in the second book of your series. still, you find yourself nitpicking at the little wording of it.

seokmin’s voice responds with panting, “yes, i’m here. i’ll welcome myself in, don’t worry about getting me.” he reassures you without you needing to point out your insufficiency.

the call is cut after you gave your thanks and you lowered your head in exhaustion. questions of if writing was this difficult for you, ‘why did you even try’ comes rushing to you like storms. if writing the first part of your story is taking this much toll on you? why even try anymore?

however, it was like heaven-sent when, “oh, baby,” rings throughout your apartment. it was seokmin’s angelic voice, and in matter of seconds, you are being gently pulled into a soft embrace, and you almost melted. almost.

“how long have you been at it, love?” seokmin asks you while patting out your hair. you respond with a sigh, “more than i need to be.” you unwillingly admitted.

seokmin frowns deeply, “no breaks yet?” you nod your head, ashamed and hoping you won’t get scolded by him. it was clear you were at your last straw—one more trigger and you’ll actually jump of a cliff.

but the scoldings never came. instead, “was it difficult for you?” you hear seokmin’s angelic voice ask again. the tears are now wanting to fall once again, but you didn’t dare let them.

“you must have been struggling a lot. haven’t you? i know it all, my love. i know it all, it’s okay.” and there goes the wall you’ve built around yourself. they fell like water, flowing like storms yet so still. seokmin’s hands tightly wraps around you as words start spilling without your permission.

“i’m scared, seokmin. i’m scared that i’ll lose my passion for writing if i can’t get such small thing right. i’m scared i’ll be proving others and my parents right—that this job of mine is not worth the risk. i’m—i’m afraid i’ll be proving myself wrong. i feel like i’m forced to choose a side, and i don’t want that. it feels like i’m running an endless race if i don’t pick any sides—my passion or the expectations. i don’t know what to do anymore. i need answers. i need solutions! i don’t know what to do with myself!”

seokmin hums in acknowledgment, his hug still tight as ever. it was like he didn’t want to let go of you, didn’t want you to let go of yourself.

“my love, shh. please, slow down, breathe. take a deep breathe for me, yeah?” seokmin reassures you.

“even if you feel like you’re in an endless race, maybe, just maybe. not running can be an answer you need. running itself is tiring enough. and so what if you stop running for a while just to take a breath? it means that you’re still alive, breathing. and even if you’re stumped at which direction to head, the sky is an answer too.”

though the words seokmin says to you are serious, you couldn’t help but bitterly chuckle. “i can’t fly, seokmin. i can’t reach the stars just for this little passion of mine.”

seokmin shakes his head in disapproval and gently places his palms on the side of your cheeks, staring deeply into your eyes. a smile grace over his lips as he speaks.

“you already have the stars in your eyes, hand-picked from the sky.”

likes / reblogs / comments are appreciated.

[cartoonsinthemorning]

So I absolutely love all your thoughts and ideas about a fem Stan, but what about a fem Ford? I feel like that could also be a really fun dynamic. Stan trying to be the man and protecting fem!Ford from bullies, but is really just entirely wrapped around Fords fingers. And then! The jealousy could come into play in other ways! Like Stan starts dating someone and Ford is pissed about it so she leaves a lipstick mark on his collar or subtly sprays him with perfumes so that Stans partner thinks he was cheating and leaves him. And the obsessionnn. Imagine her stealing Stan’s shirts and sleeping in them just because they smell like him. Or staring at him while he sleeps and sketching him in her personal diary (though let’s be real, canon Ford did that too lol.) Anyways, I also like the idea of all of these pent up feeling finally coming out and her just riding Stan until he can’t think straight and her being like “that’s right, you’ll never have it this good with anyone else.” Idk. Thoughts?

Hello new friend! Thank you for enjoying my thoughts and ideas about fem!Stan, and for now kickstarting a conversation about fem!Ford too! I have a lot of thoughts. So many, in fact, that before moving to the shippy part, I need to focus on Ford alone, first. What would differ, was he born a girl. Quite a lot. I’m gonna be blunt. All things Ford had been oppressed by, in canon, would hit ten times harder, if he was a girl. Take academic ambitions, for example: I’m not saying that fem!Ford’s extraordinary intelligence wouldn’t had earned her praise. I just doubt she would had been encouraged to pursue higher education, and convert her studies into a career. A jewish WOMAN into STEM? Back then? I don’t think any of her teachers suggested she shoots for a prestigious university- why give her and her family unrealistic expectations? Ma and Pa would had been happy to have a smart, studious daughter, but I’m sure the idea to invest into her studies would had been up to debate, if not shot down immediately: to spend that type of money, when her likely future job would be either high school science teacher, or museum curator- would had been a pointless waste, to someone like Filbrick Pines.

To be honest, I think teen fem!Ford would had rather been encouraged, by her parents, to attend professional classes instead, something like a typewriting course- in order to find a stable secretary job, for example, after high school. Can you imagine, someone with Ford’s potential, being told “Well honey, at least you can put those extra fingers to a practical use, if you learn to type very fast”? Can you imagine how UTTERLY humiliated fem!Ford must had felt, all the time? Just like Ford, I think she’d be perfectly aware what a genius she is, and how drastically she’s been underestimated. And yet, she’d have to take in consideration the evidence: it doesn’t matter how great her mind is. They are right, there’s no place that would want her. The only person that would root for her, ever the dreamer, would be Stanley. He’d just take her hands, wipe her tears away, and promise, with naive, granitic certainty, that he will find a way to help her. His plans would range from completely unrealistic and cartoonish (“Ya could invent a machine that turns me into a brainiac, and once Pa send me to that tech uni ya like, I’ll sneak you in the classes, and you’ll take my place!”), to painfully sweet, albeit still unrealistic (“If Pa doesn’t want to support ya, I’ll take two or three jobs and pay for your studies and stuff myself!”). Stanley would look at his sister with bright eyes, and a huge optimistic grin, stating that she’s the smartest gal that ever existed, so there’s NO WAY she won’t become some posh scientist and prove everyone in Glass Shard Beach wrong. Every time Stanley would pull his stupid, naive, adoring Protector Knight acts, fem!Ford would feel so angry at herself for blushing, and for her heart-rate speeding up. Because it’s so intoxicating to be believed in, but she can’t afford to fall for Stanley’s overly-hopeful view of her condition, and she can’t afford to fall for him either. And this brings me to yet another point I wanted to make: self-esteem, and societal expectations.

If canon Ford’s hands got him bullied, and classified as freak- for a girl, they would had also been a mark of ugliness and considered remarkably un-feminine. I bet F., as a little girl, suffered a lot for having more in common with the grotesque antagonistic creatures of her favorite books, rather than the princess. And I’m sure EVERYONE around her didn’t fail to make her notice too. In subtle ways, sometimes. Like her mom suggesting she gets ear-rings, for her birthday, rather than bracelets, because it would be best not to concentrate more attention on those, right? Even if teen fem!Ford would act aloof, as if she didn’t care anymore, she’d be so self conscious about her large palms and extra fingers- so unfeminine and gross- she’d fantasize about chopping them off quite often. If Stanley hadn’t happily held her hand throughout their childhood, and “made fun” of how tiny her hands look in his large ones, as teenagers, maybe she would have, in a fit of self-hate. Thing is, fem!Ford would hold grudges and set secret standards in her head. It’s not like she thinks she’d never be able to get a boyfriend, despite her hands: she doesn’t look horrible, she’d be pretty, even, if she cared for her appearance like her moms begs her to do- but F. wouldn’t be able to suppress the burning conviction that “No other man but Stanley deserves me”. Other men may want her despite her hands, but Stanley was there since the beginning, telling her her hands make her more special than any other girl, like she was magical, like she belong in the fairy tales book she used to read aloud to him. What a stab to the heart, then, that she can’t have him. Not only because they are siblings, but because, just like you said, Stanley would date someone else. Carla, and some other stupid bitch that F. would need to get rid of, because they don’t deserve Stanley like she does neither! I love all the strategies you listed, to “mark her territory” and push other girls away!! I love toxic, jealous girlies!! I don’t condone Ford’s yanderism, but fem!Ford has my blessing. She can be a creep, as a treat. As for the part you mentioned, about fem!Ford snapping and riding Stan- YES I also agree, AND I’d like to add to it. In this AU, Stanley isn’t a misogynist in the classic sense: he doesn’t consider his sister an inferior at all. But… he would not be immune to absorbing the Madonna-whore complex:Girls like Carla- he can fool around with, because they are that kind of girls. Promiscuous, slutty- bad girls. But his sister is different. She’s so virtuous, so smart- his pure, innocent little sister. Stanley would NEVER lay a finger on her. Yes, he may admit to himself he is in love with her, which is also horrible, but at least he would never, ever sexualize her. Cue Stanley playing dumb, or finding excuses to weasel away, whenever fem!Ford flirted with him, or even made clear advances- during the entire length of their teenage years. Until fem!Ford just. Decided she couldn’t take it anymore, stripped naked, slipped into Stan’s bed, and grinded and kissed his neck until he caved, lmao. I have even more thoughts, but it’s getting late, here. I must cut the yapping short, for now. Please, feel free to come chat again, and throw more ideas of your own at me! Thank you for this one, MMMMWAH, baci baci!

[bloodywickedlips]

It's a start

Summary: Spencer recently got out of prison and has been distant but it's a major shock to you when he breaks up with you and you can't hate him because you love him still.

You walked to the only person that you wanted to see right now.

Penelope Garcia.

 Opened the door and saw her sitting by her desk drinking tea like usual.

“P I need to talk to you” you said and slipped into the office, Penelope turned around with one of her bright smiles but it quickly dropped as she saw your face.

“Oh sugar what’s wrong?” she asked and you shrugged and pulled your jersey closer around your body.

“Spencer broke up with me” you said and she gasped as she stood up and gave you a tight hug, once she pulled back she grabbed your hand and pulled you to sit down.

“Why, what happened?” she asked and you couldn’t answer as you have been asking yourself that question since last night.

You closed your eyes and the memory hit you straight away.

You and spencer were having a coffee by your usual bookstore and you were telling him about the new book you started but you noticed spencer wasn’t paying attention.

“Spence love? Where is your brain right now?” you asked with a laugh but spencer only frowned and straightened up with the affectionate name you always called him.

“This isn’t right” he said out loud and you frowned. “Your coffee? I can order you a new one” you said and went to stand up but he grabbed your hand and you sat back down.

“No, this. Us. We aren’t right, I can’t do this anymore” he said and you stared at him in shock.

Sure he was a bit distant after getting out of prison but you knew he needed time to adjust to being out of prison but you didn’t know things were this bad.

“What do you mean? Love I understand if you need space but nothing changed between us, I still love you” you replied back and you saw him clench his jaw. “I’m sorry, it’s over” spencer said and then stood up and walked away, leaving you there to wonder what the hell happened.

“And he just left, I sent a few text messages but he never replied. He didn’t even greet me this morning” you said to Penelope and you could see she was upset as well.

“Penelope tell me things to hate him. Cause I still love him with all of my heart and for me to move on I need to hate him, please?” you asked her as you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“Y/N I'm sorry, I can’t tell you anything to hate him for but believe me I will be having a word with him” she said and you knew she was right. Nobody could hate spencer, sweet boy genius with the most gorgeous brown eyes and sweet smile.

You nodded and stood up to walk out not knowing that someone was standing by the door and heard every word.

You were sitting on the plane after a new case came rolling in. You were avoiding spencer in everyway you could and you could see the team noticed something was up but decided not to say anything.

Three days later the profile was completed and you and spencer were the closest to the house, so Hotch ordered you two to head there while they were on their way.

Both you and spencer walked through the house guns aimed but no one was in the house, as you looked out the kitchen window you saw a small shed out back.

“In the back” you called out and made your way there. When spencer pulled the door open you saw the unsub standing with the latest victim, knife at her throat.

“Michael look at me, you don’t want to hurt her okay?” you spoke out looking at the girls terrified eyes. “Shut up, you know nothing!” Michael spat out at you and you held your hand up as you put your gun away. “I’ve got the shot” spencer said and you shook your head. “No, not in front of her” you hissed out and stepped forward.

“Michael listen to me, what her parents did to you isn’t her fault. That whole friends group bullied you as a child but don’t you see? She’s also just a child. You are better than them” you said to the unsub trying to let him put his knife down.

“No they deserve to feel the pain I felt” he said out loud and gripped the girl tighter.

“Michael she’s innocent, don’t let their bad decisions affect the rest of her life. Just because they are her parents doesn’t mean she will be like them” you explained and with his hand wavering you knew you had him.

You stepped forward once more as he nodded and you grabbed the girl and pushed her behind you.

“Alright now drop the knife and we can get this sorted” you said and reached out for him but his eyes shot up to you “I don’t like your tone, you are a bully just like them!” he shouted out and sliced the knife out towards you, slicing your arm. You hissed and stepped back but flinched as you heard not one but two shots along with a shrill shriek. You opened your eyes to see Michael on the floor with two gunshots to his arm and shoulder. Spencer was busy handcuffing him and walking him out as you just stood there.

The little girl was out with her parents as you walked out still in a daze.

“Hey Y/N get that checked out” Hotch called out and you looked down at your arm seeing the blood run down your arm but you were looking for spencer.

You saw him by one of the cars and marched over to him. “What is wrong with you! You didn’t need to shoot him” you hissed out and spencer looked at you. “He had a knife and attacked you, so I shot” he said and you shook your head.

“He didn’t attack me! He barely grazed me, we could have taken him without shooting him, I told you not to shoot him in front of the little girl!” you yelled out and saw spencer clench his jaw.

“You are weak, you’ve become too weak for this job! It’s my job to take out an unsub if they attack, not spare a little girl from seeing her kidnapper shot!” spencer hissed back out at you and you stared at him in shock. He’s never spoken to you in such a way, not even with your worst fight you’ve had.

“Face it, I saved you. You just cant admit that you have gotten weak on the job” spencer yelled out and stormed off.

You felt the tears run down your cheeks as morgan pulled you over to the ambulance. The medic bandaged your arm as it wasn’t just a graze and would need a few stitches.

The plane ride was very silent as the team heard everything that was shouted and when you stepped back into the BAU Penelope was waiting for you.

“What happened? Morgan told me you and spencer were screaming at each other?” she asked and you looked over your shoulder to spencer who was right behind you with the rest of your team.

“Well I got my wish, I hate him” you said and you knew spencer heard you as he looked at you as you said the words and saw guilt flash over his eyes.

You told Penelope you would catch up later as you had a lot of paper work to do and made your way over to your desk.

Spencer’s pov:

“I hate him” I heard Y/N say and the guilt hit me like a punch to the gut. Before the case started I was on my way to ask Penelope about  Y/N. but before I could go in I heard her say to Penelope that she still loved me but in order to move on she wanted to hate me.

“You, my office now” Penelope said and I sighed as I walked with her. “What is wrong with you?” Penelope asked me with anger lacing her voice. And I knew I messed up badly because Penelope hardly ever got angry.

“You won’t understand” I told her as I sat down and played with my fingers, a million thoughts running through my head.

“Then explain, because what you did is not okay” Penelope said and I sighed out.

“She told you the other day she needed to hate me to move on, so I called her weak, I said she’s too weak for this job” I said and I heard Penelope huff.

“Spencer why would you break her heart like that?” she asked and I felt the tears brim in my eyes.

“Because she deserves better than me. Penelope I just got out of prison, I was an addict amongst other things, she deserves better than me and I want her to be happy. I’m broken and I will just pull her down” I explained as the tears finally fell down my cheeks.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not broken. And she is happy, no matter what you went through she doesn’t judge and she loves you” Penelope said and I sobbed out knowing that Y/N never judged me about anything I told her and I knew she did love me. But inside I felt like she deserved more.

“Penelope how do I fix this, I do still love her but I want her to have the best” I said and knew I wasn’t ready to let Y/N go.

“Apologize and talk to her, explain to her and open up” Penelope said and I nodded as I wiped the tears away from my cheeks.

“Do you think she will forgive me for hurting her?” I asked Penelope not knowing if I even deserve the forgiveness.

“Not yet but it’s a start” Y/N said in the doorway and my head shot up to meet her eyes.

“Do you still love me?” she asked me and I nodded yes, sure that she heard most of the conversation.

“Then we go from there, because I love you spence, I really do. We work on it” she said and stepped towards me and I pulled her in for a hug, nodding into her shoulder “We work on it” I whispered and closed my eyes as I felt the raging thoughts in my head quiet down.

[buzzcutlip]

Hiiii... For your dialogue prompts could you do 'can't sleep?' or 'don't look at me like that' please?

You choose the character, whoever you think fits best.

Much love <3

Hi Amy, thank you for sending the prompt, here's one for you :) It exist in the Obsession universe (because I'm obsessed with it).

Prompt: "Don't look at me like that" Richie Jerimovich x Fem!Reader 1000+ words (happens in this universe, and after this - but I don't think you need to read it, however, it can be a bit vague)

Through the gaps between the guests' bodies, their shoulders and arms, you spot Richie. He’s shoving canapés into his mouth, the delicate, bite-sized bruschettas and caviar blini looking especially small in his long, thick fingers. It’s obvious he hasn’t eaten, which is typical Richie—he’s the “only coffee and cigarettes until midday, at least” guy, then grabs something quick, just to stuff himself with greasy fast food later in the evening.

You hate how well you know him, how hard it is not to notice his presence in Nat and Pete’s living room, crowded with close and extended family members, Pete’s co-workers, and of course, The Bear crew. Richie’s dressed in an unusual outfit—not a suit, but not his typical sweatsuit either. He’s wearing washed Levi’s and a dark gray henley.

You’d be lying if you said he doesn’t look good. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t still a little heartbroken over what he told you two weeks ago. This can’t happen again.

Petulantly, you don’t go over to greet him. Instead, you talk to Marcus, then catch Pete to congratulate him on the baby, handing him a card in a nice, expensive envelope. In the kitchen, you pour some fresh orange juice, bypass the alcohol, and cram as many ice cubes as you can into the glass. You don’t watch Richie directly, but you’re aware of his every movement.

Donna’s trying to shush everyone because Natalie’s putting the baby down in the nursery, which strikes you as funny—funny and ironic. You have little patience for parents who messed up their kids’ lives, whether it’s your own parents, Donna Berzatto, or the countless irresponsible people who should never have had children.

By the large window overlooking the garden, Richie finally approaches you. Small victories.

“What’re you doing?” His voice, once soothing, now grates on you.

That catches you off guard—it’s not what you were expecting.

“Celebrating the baby,” you reply, raising your half-empty glass of juice.

Richie scoffs, glancing up at the ceiling. It takes you a moment to catch up. He’s so simple, yet so complicated.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Richie warns, and you realize he’s noticed your constant awareness of him.

“Like what?” you play dumb.

“Like it’s all my fault,” Richie snaps, his voice rising slightly. One of the uncles turns to look.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you decide not to react. With so many people around, you don’t want to cause a scene. Under Richie’s heavy gaze, you leave the room and head upstairs in search of a bathroom.

Once you’ve freshened up, wiping the black mascara marks from under your eyes and reapplying your lipstick, you feel a bit better. But as soon as you open the door, Richie is right there, hooking his arm through yours and leading you into the nearest room—a guest room, from the look of it.

“What?” you snap, shaking him off and turning to face him.

“I wanna know what’s going on with you,” Richie growls, leaning down until your faces are mere inches apart.

The tension between you is thick, a mix of unresolved emotions and an undeniable physical pull. You both stand there, breathing heavily, caught between the chaos of the party downstairs and the storm brewing in this quiet room.

You can’t believe him. “What’s going on with me? You said things couldn’t happen again, but they did—once, twice. And it was you who initiated it.”

The weight of unspoken words and unsaid truths hangs heavily between you.

Richie steps back, half-turning as he groans loudly, covering his eyes with his large palm.

“Now you wanna pretend nothing ever happened?” you accuse, your voice sounding weaker than you intended.

Richie looks at you with an intensity that both excites and terrifies you. “Because it has to be that way. Fuck—I could be your dad. Jesus.” His hand flexes at his side, like he’s trying to hold himself back.

“But you’re not!” you shout. Richie steps back into your space, gripping your bare arm with one hand while covering your mouth with the other.

“There are people,” Richie hisses, his gaze flicking between your lips and your eyes.

For a second, you freeze, then you shake him off and step away. You don’t know this side of him—serious, cold, holding on to his façade as tightly as he can.

“I’m tired of never talking about it,” you say, shaking your head, glowering. You still call it “it,” avoiding the truth.

Richie frowns at you, his deep blue eyes searching for something. The noise from downstairs is loud—laughter, clinking glasses, doors opening and closing. It’s a wild new baby celebration, Berzatto-style. Better laughter than screaming.

A hollow feeling grows in your chest with each passing second. You’re afraid to speak up, so you wait for Richie to make a move.

“What if I said I wanted it?”

“Wanted what?” you ask, trying to mask the tremble in your voice, scared to hope that he means what you think he does. Would a man like Richie really give in? It’s never simple with him—his demons, his baggage, all the walls he’s built.

“If I wanted—this,” Richie waves between the two of you, avoiding your eyes.

Your stomach tightens. It’s not what you’d hoped for deep down, and a pang of disappointment hits you, but you knew this was coming. You step closer to him, your chest brushing against his. The magnetic pull between you is undeniable, and you know if you give in, it’ll consume you both. Maybe that’s exactly what you want. Friends with benefits never ends happily.

In the end, it’s Richie who reaches for you, kissing you with Earth-shattering force. His fingers, smelling faintly of olives, chives, and cigarettes, cradle your face, and you weakly cup his cheeks, feeling his beard under your palms.

You hear yourself whimper as your tongues meet, your eyebrows knitting together as your face crumples. You’re on the verge of tears. Maybe you are crying—Richie doesn’t understand anything, he’s so fucking stupid, and you can’t tell him, because then he’ll leave you and never come back.

The thoughts spur you on. You lead the kiss, desperately pressing closer, standing on your tiptoes, licking into his mouth, biting his lip. He grabs your wrists, as if he wants to say something, but you don’t let him.

Then a loud cracking noise from downstairs jolts you both, and you pull apart, fear of getting caught overtaking the need within you.

Your eyes are heavy with want, arousal pulsing through your body. Richie doesn’t look any better.

“Okay,” you say, though your heart flutters with a mix of anticipation and caution. “But if we’re doing this, it has to be clear—no more mixed signals. No denial.”

Richie’s eyes darken as he steps closer again, his hand trailing down your arm. “Deal,” he says, his voice low, filled with that familiar, irresistible edge. He leans in, his breath brushing against your lips. “We stick to what we know.”

[blackholeunderyourbed]

So I just finished watching the second season of Heartstopper and I’m just as obsessed with it as the first season if not moreso, and there’s so much I could and want to say about it, but if there’s anything I am really pleased with how they handled, it’s Ben.

I love the comics, but something that bothers me about them is the way Ben sexually assaulting Charlie doesn’t really come up again for the most part. The incident is cited when Charlie’s therapist is talking about all the things that have happened to fuel his need to find control via eating, but it’s more or less forgotten otherwise and not really treated as a major thing that happened even though it absolutely was.

Although last season did an amazing job showing the impact of Ben’s treatment on Charlie’s self-esteem and mental health, it also didn’t touch much on the assault and more or less brushed it off. I was really glad that this season Nick directly referred to it as an assault and it was given more weight.

Even with that though, I was a bit afraid that when Ben admitted that he can’t come out to his parents, he would be forgiven to an extent, and I really should have learned from my fears during last season to trust the process. The abuse Ben put Charlie through, both emotionally and the assault, is given proper weight, which I’m grateful for. Even after Charlie stood up to Ben last season, it was still so so satisfying to see him recognize in the moment how Ben was still trying to manipulate him with his apology, which like all the apologies before has only been about himself.

One of my favorite elements about that confrontation, though, was Ben admitting that he did genuinely like Charlie. Given how he tried to tear down and maintain control over Charlie by denying liking him in the first season, I believe that that at least is meant to be genuine, even if he’s only seeking forgiveness for his own consciousness and not because he’s learned anything, wants to make things right, or is even sincerely sorry. I appreciated that note of honesty specifically because Charlie’s response illustrates the very important lesson that the weight of how someone feels about you pales in comparison to the weight of how they treat you. If the behavior of someone who feels love for you is indistinguishable from someone who doesn’t, those feelings mean nothing. 

It’s just another brilliant moment of the big theme surrounding the dichotomy between Nick and Ben: it’s not about being out or having everything figured out, but about the treatment, and only one of them every treated loving Charlie as something they needed to do.

Love is a verb.

[urfavlarry]

hello, I saw your reader who lives in the phantom universe fic and can we please get a pt 2 where reader gets transported back with them and starts school? Reader gets bullied because they haven't seen people for a long time and their social skills are lacking. You can ignore this if you want.

Thank you ❤

Tyler Hernández x reader part II

Part I

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, reader gets bullied, fem!reader

genre: angst with fluff at the end

A/N: if you want an Aiden version, message me<3

translations: hermosa-beautiful, mi reina hermosa- my beauiful queen, amor,mi amor- love, my love, mi vida- my life

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You groan, rubbing your aching head and hiss in pain as the warm summer sun hits your eyes like daggers. Wait. Warm summer sun? You quickly rise to your feet but stumble back, landing straight on your ass. “What the fuck? Is this what I think it is?” Your hands go through the soft grass, the wind brushing your skin making the temperature just right. Your heart beat quickens as you look around, seeing the oh so familiar house you last saw years ago. You shakily stand up and walk to the house. The door was just a few inches away, yet something was stopping you from knocking; “What if they moved on?” “What if they won’t want me anymore?”

You knock on the door softly and you hear a dog barking and footsteps; “We have a dog?” You wonder but freeze as you hear the door unlocking, and there she was; your mother. “Um, are you—” You get cut off by a bone crushing hug; “Oh Y/N my baby, you.. your back.. my baby..” She sobs into your shoulder as you stand there awkwardly, patting her back. She grabs you by the shoulder and looks at you with puffy eyes; “Where have you been all these years? Look at you! So grown up. Your hair..” She starts to ramble and you look at the house, your pictures still there, your baby photos.. everything was the same. Another pair of footsteps is heard throughout the house and you look past your mom’s shoulder. “Honey who was… it.” Your father drops everything on the floor and runs to you, engulfing you into a big hug, spinning you around. “Y/N I can’t believe it’s you.. you’re okay? Where have you been?” You look at them, your whole body trembling. “I must be dreaming.. this can’t be right.. i’ve bee stuck in that place for so long I must be hallucinating..” You mumble underneath your breath, your knees giving out.

Your parents look at you concerned, your mother going to get something while your father rubs your back soothingly, trying his best to comfort you. Your mother crouches down next to you and lifts your chin up to look at her. “It’s okay baby you’re home.. this is real okay?” She says and hands you a worn out stuffed toy. Your heart melts as you recognize the old thing, hugging it close to your chest. You stay there in their embrace for what feels like hours, not even noticing the fact you fell asleep. The next day you thought you would wake up back in that terrible place, but you didn’t. You woke up in a soft bed, warm blankets on top of you. You recognize the scent of the room immediately and smile softly. “Home..” You mumble and lift yourself up from the bed, your feet hitting the cold ground making your body shudder.

You walk downstairs, your parents making breakfast. You yawn and sit down in the living room, the dog jumping to lay beside you. A second later your mom and dad walk into the living room, handing you your breakfast with a quick kiss on the cheek from your mom. “Good morning, sleep well?” You nod and munch on your breakfast. ‘Finally decent food’ You think to yourself and finish eating. “Wow that was quick.” Your dad jokes and you smile, putting the dishes in the sink and walk back. “Soo.. I was thinking we could go shopping today? Since you only have your old clothes that probably will not fit you at all?” And so it was set!

You had a lot of fun shopping, you saw how styles have changed and well.. how everything has changed. Then it hits you; the other must be worried sick. You disappear into thin air and they don’t know where you are. “I should ask my mom if she knows her parents.” You think to yourself and look at your mom who was now driving you guys back home. “Wow we really sure spent a lot didn’t we?” She jokes and you chuckle awkwardly; “Um mom? Do you by any chance know the Banner family?” You ask and fiddle with your sleeves. She looks at you confused; “Oh they’re our neighbors, why? How do you know them?” “Oh um I saw them when we were going to the car!”

She looks at you unconvinced but drops the subject; “Well if you want we can invite them over? Their daughter Ashlyn is your age!” She smiles enthusiastically and starts to ramble about what she will make for dinner. And so dinner came around, your mother was cooking your favorite and you were setting the table while your dad was just watching TV. “Y/N honey I think they’re here, could you go open the door?” “On it.” You say and run to the door, and there she was; Ashlyn. You smile at them kindly and let them in, Ashlyn looking at you with a “what the fuck” face and you shrug. “Mom, me and Ash are going upstairs!” You don’t give her time to reply and drag Ashlyn to your room, shutting it behind you. “Where have you been!?” She whisper yells and paces around your room. “We were worried sick! Especially Tyler! He’s been going crazy for the past 2 days!” She says and sits down on your bed. You look at her and shrug; “I wish I could tell you how I got here but I really don’t know. I don’t go back at night like you do tho but I guess you’ve noticed that.” She nods and drops the topic for now, talking to you about school and who to avoid. You were starting school tomorrow and to say you were nervous was an understatement. You and Ashlyn would meet up every morning at the bus stop and go to school together along with Aiden and Ben.

The next day it’s just like you planned; meet up with Ashlyn and go to school together. You sat next to her after getting yet another bone crushing hug from Aiden and just a simple wave from Ben who in his own way was glad you were okay. Aiden yapped the whole way to school but you didn’t mind, it was nice being with them again. You were nervous about seeing Tyler. Would he be mad? You don’t know.

You walk with the others to the office to get your schedule which was basically the same since you’re in the same class. Suddenly the halls get crowded, people arriving in school and you get separated from the others, loosing them in the giant crowd. You look around frantically searching for them and try to push through the crowd mumbling quick a ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’. You get pulled back into a bathroom by a black haired boy. He was fairly tall and had shoulder length hair. “I um.. Hi..” You say and fiddle with your hoodie. “Hey newbie you looked like a damned lost puppy in that crowd.” He smirks and makes you back up into a wall. “I.. uh.” “Well what’s your name?” He says and put his arm next to your head, basically caging you there with him. “My name.. it’s ..the.. uh.. I mean it’s Y/N.” You say, slapping yourself internally at the awkward interaction. The boy laughs and goes to speak when another very familiar voice spoke up; “Hey you fucking asshole leave her alone.” He gets pushed off and you scatter to the door of the bathroom, watching Tyler beat the boy. You grab him by the shoulder and speak up; “We should.. go..” Tyler stands up, breathing heavily and leads you away.

Once you get away from the crowd he pulls you into a loving kiss. “You don’t know how much i’ve missed you mi reina hermosa.” He says and hugs you, lifting you up and spins you around. You chuckle and hug him back, kissing him on the cheek. “I missed you too Ty, let’s go to class we can talk later okay?” You say and smile at him, taking his hand and interwine your fingers. He leads you to the class and you get there just in time before the bell rings. You get pulled in front of the class by the teacher and you look down at the ground nervously. “Students this is our new student Y/N L/N, treat them with kindess even if they arrived in the middle of the year.” He says and smiles at you kindly. “Now go ahead and introduce yourself.” Your face feels hot and you stutter our a quick sentance; “Mynameisy/nandIliketolistentomusic.” You say and regret even speaking as most of the class starts to laugh. The teacher shuts them up and you quickly sit down in your seat, resting your head down on the table and try not to think about this awkward day.

And after that day the bullying began. You would get called names, people fake stuttering when talking to you and fiddle with their hands. You laugh awkwardly about it, not knowing how to protect yourself when Tyler wasn’t there to shut them up. You didn’t want to depend on him so you kept quiet about it and bottled up your emotions. Tyler quickly noticed your change in behavior. You were more quiet then usual and you weren’t as talkative as you were when you were in the phantom realm.

One day you were hanging out at his house, him laying on top of you while you played with his hair. He looks up at you with hooded eyes and flips you both so you were now the one on top of him. “Amor what’s up with you lately?” You raise a brow as a sign for him to continue. “Well, ugh.. just.. you’ve been so distant lately and you don’t talk as much as you did before.” He says and sits up, cupping your cheek and traces loving circles on it. “You know if somethings going on you can tell me, right?” He says and smiles softly. You contemplate what to say, should you tell him the truth? Well he already knows something is going on so it would be better if you did. But what if the bullying didn’t stop? What if it only gets worse? You shake off those thoughts and sigh, beginning to speak and tell him everything.

How the bullying started, who bullies you, how they bully you, literally everything. You ramble on and on, trying your best to tell him that it’s nothing but he shuts you up with a quick peck on the lips. “Y/N this is serious you know? It’s okay to be nervous around people. I mean, how long have you been without human contact aside me and the rest of the group?” He asks and you stay silent and frown. “Exactly. I promise to be here for you from now on and I am so sorry I haven’t been this entire time mi vida.” He says and pulls you into a warm embrace, inviting you to let out all of your emotions, which you do. You sob and ramble for what feels like hours on end and calm down after talking about it some more with Tyler. Your eyes were puffy and you looked away from him and joke; “Don’t look at me i’m probably not the prettiest sight right now.” You chuckle and wipe away your tears.

He pulls you closer by the waist and peppers your face with kisses, making you giggle. “You.Are.The.Most.Prettiest.Girl.In.The.World.” He says im between kisses and gives you one last kiss on the lips. “But really mi amor if anyone bothers you from now on come and tell me, but I will be by your side most of the time now okay?” Your hearts mealts and nod, laying back down with him and think to yourself; “Home at last..”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[fakebutilikeyou]

how the poem on Wilhelm's wall foreshadows all of Young Royals S3 bc my YR brianrot won't go away

the poem is "The Shield-Maiden" by Karin Boye (the same author who wrote Crisis) and while we only see the first stanza, it's a lot longer. Here's the entire english translation.

I do think it’s important that the only part of this poem that we see in the show is the first stanza. It’s Wille’s perspective on what it means to have come out and be in a public relationship with Simon.

He’s romanticizing being with him and the “battle” he’s fighting against the expectations of the crown. He sees his love with Simon as armor that will protect him and arm him against the battle with his role as Crown Prince.

Simon is what makes him feel strong. For example, Wille wasn’t brave enough on his own to admit it was him in the video and it was only after Simon chose to be with him that he was strong enough to do so.

Stanza 2 continues his romanticizing of the reality of being in an openly queer relationship. The “giants that fell” is the ideal prince that he was expected to be. The court and tradition tries to keep them apart but their love was strong and bright to him like lightning.

The darkness is the burden the monarchy is putting on everyone in the royal family. Wille believes that he can escape the threat of this darkness by relying more on Simon (bonus that he joined the choir so they literally did sing together).

In Stanza 3 the POV switches to Simon. Where Wille dreamed of being public as something freeing, Simon had a taste of what the media would be like after the video and couldn’t dream of the same things as him. Instead of being “armored and strong” he dreams of “blood and death”.

Wille can dream about their love being armor against all of these things he’s already dealt with but Simon wasn’t ready for battle. In S3 we watch the court and media tear him down, the mortal wound is Simon having to delete himself (i.e. his instagram, writing songs & singing).

Stanza 4 starts with saying you didn’t even notice that I fell, you didn’t even notice that this battle is killing me. Even as we can all see that Simon is suffering, Wille can’t because he’s too distracted with the battle that he’s still fighting against his role.

“With steady hand the shield you held” Wille is still confident in their love’s ability to project him and he continues using it to help him get through his birthday dinner. He’s only brave enough to say all the things he does to his parents because Simon was by his side. (If you rewatch this scene you can notice Wille continually looking over at Simon for support.)

I see stanza 5 as the conclusion. The fire is Simon’s dream (or nightmare) and the dream of roses is Wille’s romanticizing of all of it. The third line is the death of their relationship/the end of the battle.

Wille has lost the battle but still won in a different way. He stops fighting to try and be the traditional crown prince he's expected to be. In the end this is what allows him to dream of Simon again.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk 💀

[elliesappetite]

Doctor Williams is in the house (Inspired by Grey's Anatomy) - Prologue

FREE PALESTINE

Doctor Ellie Williams x surgical intern reader

Rating: 17+ (Age Gap - Ellie is 38, Reader is 28)

Summary: you slept with Ellie Williams after a night out. You're a surgical intern, what could possibly go wrong? (Doctor AU)

a/n: hello!! it's been a while but i've been so busy that i just haven't had time to sit down and write! But i'm here now! Also i'm no doctor so there will be inaccuracies but i'm trying to make it accurate!!

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The game. They say either a person has what it takes to play, or they don't. My mother was one of the greats. Me, on the other hand...I'm kinda screwed.

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It feels like just yesterday when you were buried under a mountain of textbooks, your nights filled with tears and sleeplessness, all in pursuit of passing the board certification exam. All those gruelling hours have finally paid off.

Now, here you are at the bar, surrounded by your old friends Jess, Micah, and Lily, celebrating your new role as a surgical intern at St. David’s North Austin Medical Center in Austin, Texas.

“I still can’t believe you’re actually a surgeon!” Micah exclaims with a grin, giving you a playful punch on the arm. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And I can’t believe you’re back from the big city of Seattle, man we missed you.” Jess adds, you give her a smile in return.

“I’m not a surgeon yet, just a surgical intern. I still have a year to go before I’m official,” you correct Micah as the man just shrugs. “Still, that’s really impressive. I don’t think I could ever be a surgeon.”

“Yeah, because you’re not exactly known for your brains, Micah,” Lily teases, taking a sip of her beer. “She’s smarter than all of us put together.”

“I’m not that dumb,” Micah protests, but his voice trails off as Jess speaks up.

“You know what we should do? We should get you laid.” Jess’s suggestion raises an eyebrow. “And why should I do that?” you ask, nursing your half-finished vodka-cranberry.

“You haven’t been with anyone since Esther dumped you for that guy, what was his name? Denver?” Jess teases. “Dallas,” you correct her with a raised eyebrow. “Right, Dallas. Who does that?”

Rolling your eyes, you watch Lily chime in, “I think I need to find someone too. Ever since the whole mess with my parents, I definitely need to get out there.” She starts scanning the bar for potential matches.

As the trio continues their banter, you let your gaze wander around the room. Among the diverse crowd, your eyes settle on a striking woman sitting alone at the bar. Her beauty is captivating, as well as wanting to sit on her face-  as she looks back from the cricket game on the TV, her eyes meet yours.

She gestures for you to join her, patting the seat next to her. With a quick excuse to your friends, you make your way over and sit beside her, immediately drawn to the intoxicating scent of her cologne.

“Howdy,” she says, her voice low and inviting.

“Hi there,” you respond, enchanted by her slight southern accent.

“I noticed you with your friends,” she leans forward, resting her elbows on the bar.

“Oh, yeah?” you lean closer. “Yeah.” She takes a sip of her drink. “I didn’t want to interrupt a pretty girl like you while you were with your friends.” You blush at the compliment. “Pretty girl,” she called you.

The conversation flows effortlessly, and before you know it, you’re completely absorbed in her presence, losing track of time.

“How about you come back with me?” you ask, your newfound confidence perhaps fueled by the alcohol or just by her allure.

She finishes her drink, places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar for both of your tabs, and smiles. “Sure, pretty girl, lead the way.”

You both stand up, grabbing your things and heading toward the exit. As you glance back, your friends give you thumbs up, and Micah winks at you.

The night unfolds in a blur of excitement. You barely remember getting to your place, but the passionate encounter you shared is etched vividly in your mind—it was nothing short of heavenly.

If only you knew what the future would hold.

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You wake up on the couch and pull a blanket off the half-naked woman on the floor, wrapping it around yourself. As you glance at her sleeping form, you nudge her with a pillow, causing her to grunt and stir. She lifts up your bra, confused.

“This…is…?” she mumbles.

You grab it with a sarcastic smile. “Humiliating on so many levels. You have to go.”

Sitting up and adjusting her crooked sports bra, she flirts, “Why don’t you just come back down here, and we’ll pick up where we left off?”

You scoff softly and head toward the kitchen. “No, seriously. You have to go. I’m late, which is definitely not how you want to start your first day of work, so…”

The woman looks around, puzzled. “So, ah, you actually live here?”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh.”

You sigh, pouring yourself a coffee. “Yes. Kind of.”

She dresses in the clothes from last night. “Oh. It’s nice. A bit dusty. Odd, but nice. So how do you kind of live here?”

You walk past her, retrieving your underwear and bra. “I moved here two weeks ago from Seattle. It was my mother’s house. I’m selling it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

You turn, confused. “For what?”

“You said ‘was.’”

You shake your head. “My mother’s not dead. She’s— You know what, we don’t have to do the whole thing.”

She crosses her arms with a smirk. “Oh. We can do anything you want—”

“No,” you cut her off. “Not the thing. No exchanging details or pretending to care. Look, I’m going upstairs to shower. When I come back down, you won’t be here, so, um, goodbye…um…”

You realize you don’t know her name.

“Ellie,” she replies. You shake her hand. “Ellie. Right.” You introduce yourself, and she repeats your name.

“Nice name,” Ellie says. “Yeah. Thanks.” Ellie moves closer, and you back away. “Mm-hmm.”

“Nice meeting you, pretty girl.” “Bye, Ellie.” You smile and flee for the stairs.

Ellie stands there, watching your retreating figure, wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

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The hospital looms large and intimidating. You used to know every corner of this place when your mother, now retired, was a doctor here.

Now, it’s your turn to fill those big shoes.

You slip into a room full of other interns—some nervous, some confident. It feels like stepping into a lion’s den. As you take it all in, you hear a voice. Dr. Isaac Dixon.

"Each of you comes here with hope, eager to join the game. Just a month ago, you were in med school, learning from doctors. Today, you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as surgical residents will be both the best and the worst of your lives. You will be pushed to your limits. Look around. Say hello to your competition."

The interns exchange glances, sizing up the others who are all here to fight for the same goal.

"Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you."

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Like I said. I’m screwed.

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[lynzishell]

The Present 🤍 San Myshuno

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Phoenix: Hey. Dawn: [sniffles] Hey. Phoenix: Why are you sitting in the dark? Dawn: [shrugs]

Dawn: I was worried you wouldn’t come back. Phoenix: I just needed some time to cool down. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, I’m sorry. Dawn: It’s okay. You were mad. I don’t blame you. Phoenix: It’s not okay. I should’ve stepped away sooner. It won’t happen again, I promise.

Dawn: [nods] Are you still angry? Phoenix: Yes. But mostly, I’m hurt. And confused. Dawn: I’m so sorry. For everything. You have to believe me; I’d take it all back if I could.

Phoenix: I know. I just… I don’t understand why. I’m racking my brain, but I can’t make sense of any of it. Why did you do it? Dawn: I don’t know. I just… when I read the letter, and I learned about his life and his son, it felt important to… I couldn’t just disregard it, throw it away.

Phoenix: Okay. But why contact him? Dawn: I knew you weren’t ready to talk to him, but I hoped one day you would be. I guess it was just a way to leave that door open… just in case. Phoenix: But you knew that’s not what I wanted. It’s never been what I wanted. That’s not going to change.

Dawn: Well maybe it’s not just about you. Phoenix: What?

Dawn: What about Aspen? Doesn’t she deserve the opportunity to know her grandfather and her uncle? Phoenix: Aspen is fine. She’s surrounded by family. Megan and Alex, Atlas and Asher, they all love her, and they’re all here for her, and for us. Dawn: Megan and Alex aren’t her grandparents. Joseph is. And she deserves to know him. I couldn’t just turn my back on that. Why can’t you give him a chance? For her.

Phoenix: Dawn, I’m protecting her. Why would I allow that man into her life? Dawn: I really believe he’s changed.

Phoenix: Why? Because he said so? How many times did he tell my mother that he’d changed, only to show up wasted and belligerent? Hell, even Julian had to cut him off eventually. The man is full of shit. Why would I believe this time is any different? Why would I risk it when I have you and Aspen to think about? I don’t want her anywhere near him. Or your parents for that matter. What if it was them who’d reached out? You think the fact that they’re her “real” grandparents is reason to let those awful people into her life?

Dawn: Well, you don’t have to worry about that because they’d never care enough to bother! At least your dad cares enough to try! Do you know what I would give… [voice cracks] Phoenix: What?

Dawn: All I’ve ever wanted is for them to love me the way they’re supposed to. To care about me and my life, be there for the important moments. But no. Ash’s mom had to step in and do all the things MY mother should’ve been there to do. And I had to put a smile on my face and be happy about it because anything less would be ungrateful. And now what? They’re supposed to step in and pretend to be Aspen’s grandparents because her own don’t give a shit?

Phoenix: Dawn… Dawn: And then the one thing I’ve spent my entire life wishing for shows up out of nowhere in an envelope with your name on it, and you just want to toss it away like it means nothing.

Dawn: [crying] I’m sorry.